


Collaborative Therapy

by Argonautilus_sek3big, ChickenBatnana, gen3king, raak (raak1101)



Category: OMORI (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Collaboration, Gen, Original Character(s), Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:00:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29448915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argonautilus_sek3big/pseuds/Argonautilus_sek3big, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenBatnana/pseuds/ChickenBatnana, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gen3king/pseuds/gen3king, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raak1101/pseuds/raak
Summary: A collaboration fic between four writers from the OMORI Discord. Guided by a prompt and some ground rules:Prompt: A character from OMORI goes to therapy.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	1. Dissociation Station

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is written by a different person. The writers are (with links to their profile):
> 
>   * [Chapter 1: ChickenBatnana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenBatnana)
>   * [Chapter 2: sek3big/Argonautilus/Shwe Tu Colony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argonautilus_sek3big)
>   * [Chapter 3: raak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raak1101)
>   * [Chapter 4: gen3king](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gen3king)
> 

> 
> Special thanks to [KommSüßerTod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KommSusserTod) for supporting us during the process.
> 
> Guidelines
> 
>   * Fic takes place two years after the game's inciting incident
>   * Chapter length must be between 1K and 5K words
>   * Cannot repeat main character, but can use unclaimed characters as support
>   * Claimed character can be mentioned, but not used
>   * No shipping allowed except Mari/Hero
>   * Can diverge from canon, but cannot egregiously contradict previous chapters
> 


**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written by: [ChickenBatnana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenBatnana)

The light buzzed. It was the most miserable of noises. Incandescent light, pitched too high, piercing through Sunny's ears. Why was he here again?

_ ''Sunny, sweetie. I got you an appointment with a nice therapist! I think it might do you good. We're going there next Tuesday, so be ready when I get home then!'' _

Oh yeah, that's why. His mother had been on a business trip- like always. She just wanted to avoid Sunny, he knew that. He wasn't twelve anymore. Even when he was twelve, he knew full well that his parents preferred someone else over him.

Someone…

The light buzzed. His mind couldn't slip away right now. 

A door opened behind the chair Sunny sat on. A woman walked in, tall with brown hair wrapped up in a bun. She carried a bag and a notebook. Her greeting was a polite; ''Good afternoon!'' to which Sunny said nothing back.

The lady sat down across him. The way she looked Sunny up and down made him very uncomfortable. ''Sunny, is it? I am Glenda. Today I just wanna talk a little and get to know you, okay?''

He gave no verbal response again, only a shrug. Glenda. What kinda name was  _ that _ . Sunny had already made up his mind, he was not about to talk to this woman. 

''Well okay then, how are you doing today?''

No sound. Only the high pitched hum of the lights, broken by Glenda tapping her pencil on the notebook. When had she opened that?

‘’Alright Sunny, well your mother called me to ask if we could have a chat. She’s very worried about you. She told me that you.. Spend a lot of time inside, right?’’

‘Spend a lot of time inside’ was an understatement, to say the least. The last time he had gone outside was.. Well, it was all starting to get fuzzy now. Sunny just nodded, looking at nowhere in particular.

Sunny saw Glenda write something in the corner of his eye. ‘’When’d you start spending this much time inside, Sunny?’’

A good question. Days blended into weeks and to months and to days again. Come to think of it, it had to be some years ago. He was fourteen. That wasn’t very hard to remember, because he’d missed his own birthday twice. So… Two years. A little over two years. That’s when he stopped going outside.

But he wasn’t gonna tell her that.

She wrote something in her notebook again. Sunny briefly found himself closing his eyes, black turning white before-

‘’You good there?’’

His eyes snapped open and he nodded quickly. This was a problem.  _ But was it? _ Like a little demon on his own shoulder, he asked. Was it really a problem? He just had something better to do than sitting here, that wasn’t so much of a problem at all. That wasn’t really so weird at all.

Glenda wrote down more things. What was she on about?

‘’Sunny, we briefly discussed what happened around the time you stopped going to school and leaving the house, but I would like to hear about it from you too. Can you tell me something about that time?’’

Two years ago. Sunny fidgeted his hands now. Two years ago… He was twelve then. And he had many friends. And he went to school. Everything was fine until... 

Until what again?

Sunny felt his shoulders involuntarily shrug.

‘’..You don’t know anything about what happened then?’’

His body was still for a few moments. No, no, he definitely knew something... He just had to pull himself back to reality- for just a moment.

The light buzzed.

‘’Mari.’’

The word felt like breathing for the first time since entering the room, even if he didn’t really consciously process saying it. That showed on his face. Glenda stared at him and smiled. She took notes. ‘’Good job.’’ She cooed. ‘’That’s your sister, isn’t she?’’

Sunny nodded. Mari was his sister. Was. She..

‘’And what happened to her, Sunny?’’

‘’Sh-’’ Sunny was cut off by nothing, seemingly unable to say another thing. His heart started beating quicker. His hands fidgeted.

Glenda pulled a piece of paper out of her note book, the ripping sound almost startled Sunny. She put it down in front of him to reveal an empty page, and laid a pen next to it. ‘’You can write, or draw.’’

His hand grabbed the pencil. He saw it tremble. He didn’t feel the pen in his hand. Sunny limply moved the pen to the paper, pushing it down.

Horizontal small line.

Vertical line going far up.

Horizontal going left.

Vertical down. 

A circle.

A hangman.

The pencil dropped. 

\---

_ Welcome to WHITE SPACE. _

_ You have been here as long as you can remember. _

Sunny looked into OMORI’s eyes. Blink. Sunny was no more.

OMORI looked around the room. It was just like described. White space stretching as far as the eye could see. A thin black border separating him from the beyond. Red hands carefully on watch to guide him back to safety. A box of tissues, a laptop, a sketchbook, MEWO, and a light bulb. 

A nice, quiet light bulb.

OMORI passed the time. He pet MEWO and let her sleep on his lap. He cried loudly into his tissues. He stared at the screen of his laptop and journaled his day. OMORI was great at journaling, but save the odd door day, there was not that much to document. Today was not a door day. He didn’t mind right now.

The door appeared only when he was very lonely. He would go there and play all day with all of his friends in the most beautiful world. They were all so very nice to him. But sometimes he just liked a little quiet.

WHITE SPACE was plenty of fun too. OMORI shifted himself over to the sketchbook, flipping through the pages. He liked drawing, because he could see all the things in his head on paper. Sometimes, he wished he had an instrument in WHITE SPACE, so he could hear all the things in his head, too.

He was sure he’d get an instrument eventually.

The next page he flipped through was blank. Usually, the sketchbook stopped here. But there was one more page. OMORI flicked over the paper.

A hangman.

Incomplete, all it needed was some lines to finish it up. To draw lines, he needed a pen.

Why didn’t he have a pen? How… How did he even draw this? When? Why didn’t he journal this? Actually, why didn’t he journal anything? Only that he was there. Not even the date. None of this was right. What was the date? How long had he been here?

A rumble. Something fell nearby.

OMORI gazed out to see SOMETHING. It stood in front of a knife on the ground. Unblinking. Staring right back, OMORI walked out of his little room in WHITE SPACE and picked the knife off the ground. He was now right in front of SOMETHING. He knew just what to do.

OMORI dug the knife into his stomach. Everything went black..

\---

The light buzzed. That was the first sound to reach Sunny’s ears again. Then his heartbeat and breath, reminding him he was alive. Then his therapist’s voice, reminding him he was still not out of trouble.

‘’You there?’’

He nodded. Reminder to self, he was indeed there.

‘’Where’d you just go, Sunny?’’ Glenda asked, fully serious in tone.

Sunny stared. How was he even supposed to  _ begin  _ answering that question? He didn’t like this at all. It was like she was accusing him of something, and he felt strangely guilty without understanding why. Looking down, the hangman drawing wasn’t there. Had it ever been? Had he just imagined things again? How long was he gone for?

Thoughts raced through Sunny’s mind. He clenched his fists, palms sweaty by now. Glenda took more notes. Why was she always taking notes?

‘’Alright. I think your sister is a very touchy subject for you. We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, okay?’’ She said. ‘’Can I get you a glass of water?’’

Anything but that. Sunny felt like he didn’t deserve water at this moment. Why? What? How? He shook his head, half to answer and half to shake away his own questions.

‘’No? Okay then. I want you to tell me something about your.. You know, social life. Do you have any friends?''

No response. Sunny wondered how long Glenda was gonna keep this up. He didn't even want to be here, he wanted to go back home and sleep comfortably.

Glenda didn't say anything. She just stared at Sunny, waiting for an answer. Why was she looking like that? Was she.. Was she judging him? For something? Sunny fidgeted his hands uncomfortably.

''D-dunno..'' He finally stuttered, if just to kill the silence.

‘’Good job, and that’s alright! Have you ever had friends?’’

Sunny couldn’t help but feel bitter at her praise. She just  _ made  _ him talk, he didn’t want to. She was gonna do it again, too. He just knew that. He was being stared at again. The eyes burnt on his head, which was pointed down at the floor. More fidgeting. More waiting. He felt like he could throw up had he eaten anything. He hadn’t.

‘’You seem nervous.’’

Wow,  _ wow _ , she thought he seemed nervous! What a genius, she should get an award. His fidgeting turned more agitated as he picked at his hands.

‘’If you want, we can go back to talking about your sister, Mari.’’

There it was. A shooting pain through his stomach at the very mention of the name. Sunny folded into himself. His head rang. Why was he  _ like  _ this? He wanted to leave, but something tied him to this space.

The light buzzed. It was so, so, loud. It almost deafened Glenda’s note-taking.

‘’Do you feel guilty, Sunny?’’

Sunny’s hands pressed against his head. He couldn’t find any air in the quick breaths he took. He wanted to  _ go  _ now, he wanted to leave. This hopeless struggle… It felt all too familiar. Sunny didn’t know why. His head nodded sheepishly, still cradled in his own arms.

He couldn’t see Glenda, but she spoke in a calm voice. ‘’You know, a lot of people blame themselves for things out of their control. I think you’re doing the same. Do you agree?’’

He wanted to nod. Sunny knew it would be the most logical thing. But it didn’t feel right. Everything around him felt numb. He knew he had his head in his arms, but he felt like he was floating. No, drowning. He needed to nod. It was the most logical thing to do.

Sunny nodded.

‘’Sunny… Sometimes people make sad decisions. And we can’t blame them for that, but we can’t blame ourselves, either. It’s normal to do so, but...’’

He couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from anymore. He couldn’t breathe or see or do anything but-

‘’You didn’t kill Mari, Sunny.’’

That…

That was right.

Sunny didn’t kill Mari. Mari killed Mari.

Mari killed herself by hanging herself on a tree, using a jumping rope.

No one knew why. And that’s how she died. That’s how it went. That was all there was to it.

The light shut itself up.

Sunny felt his arms loosen around his head. He barely realised he’d been crying before he wiped his tears away. Everything was okay now. Glenda’s eyes met his briefly before he looked away.

Glenda took notes. ‘’There there, are we calm again? I think that’s enough for today, Sunny. Sometimes you just need to hear it. I’ll speak to your mom about our next appointment.’’

Everything was okay now. He could escape from whatever, whenever he felt like doing so, and everything was okay now. This was all okay now. Not a problem, not something to be fixed. It was normal to blame yourself. The only natural conclusion of someone’s senseless suicide. Sunny closed his eyes… Black turning white… 

No.

He needed to stick with it at least until getting home. Then he could dream away to WHITE SPACE. It was not a problem. Whereas first he wanted to go, now, he was finally ready to. Sunny mindlessly lifted his body from the chair when Glenda did so. They walked to the waiting room, empty except for his mother.

\---

''He seems… quiet…. dissociative… panic... appointment...''

The words his mom and therapist spoke slurred together in Sunny's mind. He was looking out of the window at the street.

Glenda was right. He dug far into his mind, and came to find that he didn't do anything. Mari committed suicide, and he had nothing to do with it. There was no reason to feel guilty…

So why then did the weight on his shoulders only grow?

So why then was SOMETHING in the reflection still looking at him like that?


	2. You'll Get the Sun to Shine for You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written by: [sek3big/Argonautilus/Shwe Tu Colony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argonautilus_sek3big)

## Act One

** SCENE ONE **

Setting: A fairly normal therapists' office. A bookshelf is filled with various classical literatures, poems, and knicknacks LEFT. A door and clock RIGHT. A bay window and table CENTER, with a freshly-baked lemon pie, a blooming peppermint, and a small portable CD player sitting on the latter.

_XANTHOS, a blonde-haired young man, is writing something on the table in front of him. He pauses to eat a piece of lemon pie on his own plate, while an empty plate sits across the table. From the RIGHT, BASIL walks onstage._

BASIL

You can do this, Basil... it won't be so bad. Mom and dad and grandma... they know what's best. They have to. Everything... everything will be okay. _(He knocks.)_

XANTHOS

Come in, come in. _(Door opens.)_ Just in time. You're Basil, correct?

BASIL

Yes, sir.

XANTHOS

Delightful to meet you, then. I'm Xanthos. I'll be your therapist today, so come, take a seat. _(BASIL seats himself.)_ Some lemon pie?

BASIL

N-no thanks, but, um, why do you have it?

XANTHOS

I just like how it tastes, is all. Sometimes it turns out useful, too.

BASIL

How?

XANTHOS

Lemons have a strong taste, like how peppermint has a strong smell. Sometimes, patients get too into their memories and whatnot— well, therapy is supposed to call out those memories so we can understand them and help someone move on, yes, but it's no good for someone to lock themselves in their mind like that. When that happens, the taste of lemons and the aroma of peppermint help ground them back to reality. Getting someone to painfully undergo a memory is not the intention here.

BASIL

Then, what is it?

XANTHOS

Things happen. Things fall apart, and sometimes, we don't necessarily take the best route for it because we're overwhelmed by a million other things. Therapy is supposed to help uncoil a person, help them come out about what's hurting them, and they can't do that if they're trapped in the past. I assume this is your first time with a therapist?

BASIL

Yes, sir. I mean, I used to have someone my age, but I...

XANTHOS

Speak, if you're ready.

BASIL

Ready?

XANTHOS

Sometimes, we need time to take the truth. Make sure we've done everything we want, put on our best clothes. Things like that. Other times, it comes to light when we least expect it. Truth and lies— they're a funny thing like that.

BASIL

Sir, um, about that... do you think there are some truths that are just too bad to talk about? Would it just be better to lie?

XANTHOS

Hah... now that's a thought. I can't give you any overarching philosophies or anything for something like that. It changes person-to-person. I'm guessing this is something that you're worried about, too?

BASIL

U-um, no, it's just a... a thought I had.

XANTHOS

Well, I won't press any. I'm guessing you have your friend on your mind, though?

BASIL

I... I think I've said too much, can we start the, um, session now. Sorry if— I don't know much of how this works.

XANTHOS

That's fine. It's hard on the first visit. Most folks who visit me are too scared to reveal they're weak and things like that. Takes a bit of time for them to easen up. You've already come out pretty quickly, I think.

BASIL

I-I have? I... I don't think I have, I was just— they were just curious questions, that's all, sir.

XANTHOS

Please, don't worry. I won't force you to answer anything you don't want to. As time goes on, maybe you'll be ready, or maybe you won't be. Only you can answer that.

BASIL

I guess so. _(Beat.)_ But, um, what is... standard procedure, here? I feel like...

XANTHOS

That this one's a bit strange? Well, it is, a little. Usually, a first session has me asking some ground questions, about friends, family, why you're here. Which, it seems I may have gone too fast.

BASIL

Does that happen often?

XANTHOS

The lemon pie's a funny food, so yes. But onto more important matters. What's your family status, Basil? Who're you closest to? What do you love about them?

BASIL

My grandmother. She taught me to garden but... she hasn't been well, recently. Sometimes I see her, and... sir, I'm scared.

XANTHOS

Of what?

BASIL

Of losing her. She... she was the one who got my parents to book this appointment, and even before that, she was always there for me when I was lonely. But... sir, what do I do when I lose someone? Does it ever stop hurting?

XANTHOS

It hurts less and less over time. It won't go away, even when you feel like you should've moved on all the way, but even so, it gets better every day, slowly, slowly. You find new things to remember the dead by, but... you at least still have her. Cherish her, as long as she lives. Do you have anyone else?

BASIL

My caretaker, Polly, but... I'm not all that close to her. She cooks food and helps me take care of grandma, but that's about it. My parents hired her, because they're busy with... business trips and all.

XANTHOS

How long has she been in your household?

BASIL

I think... I remember always seeing her. She's just always been a family friend, even in high school. She was just a babysitter back then.

XANTHOS

I see. Do you like her?

BASIL

She's fine, I guess. 

XANTHOS

Do you wish your parents were there instead?

BASIL

I... don't know, sir. Why do you ask?

XANTHOS

I'll explain better based on your answer, but at the end of the day, your parents care about you enough to hire a caretaker. How you see her is another question. 

BASIL

I guess I would rather have a mom and dad, like... like my friend, Kel. His parents are always there for him. I wish mine could be.

XANTHOS

What do you love about your parents? _(Beat.)_ Basil? 

BASIL

Um, I just need a moment to think, that's all, sir.

XANTHOS

Very well, but just know that I can only help you to the extent you're willing to help yourself. 

_An awkward silence passes. XANTHOS takes this time to take a bite from his lemon pie. BASIL fidgets._

XANTHOS

Would you like to mov—

BASIL

I'm... I'm sorry, sir.

XANTHOS

Hm? Please, don't worry, Basil.

BASIL

I'm supposed to have happy memories, right? I just... can't think of anything off the top of my head, sir. Is there something wrong with that?

XANTHOS

A little, but... they're busy, I'm assuming?

BASIL

Wait, I guess I have a couple photographs. Does that count?

XANTHOS

Do you have them on hand?

BASIL

No, unfortunately. I'd... I'd rather have photographs of my friends. My photo album back home has a ton of those. 

XANTHOS

Ah, you could've brought it. It sounds like it would've been nice.

BASIL

I guess, but...

XANTHOS

Well, no matter. So,how about those photographs of your parents? Was it for a birthday? Christmas?

BASIL

No, just family pictures. Obligatory, I guess. They're just vague pictures that I can't remember much about. I... it's usually just been my grandmother and Polly. Mom and dad just aren't home enough. I wish they could be there more, like my friend Kel. His parents are always around, but...

XANTHOS

Some parents might find it hard to express their love, but this does sound a bit much. _(Beat.)_ It's out of my jurisdiction, unfortunately.

BASIL

I remember with Kel this one time... he invited us to his house and his mom was there and was always over us, asking if we were hungry, things like that. Then, Kel tripped while playing basketball with his brother, and then his mom hurried over with a bandaid. His dad was there too, just... watching and... he looked proud. I got kinda jealous, I think.

XANTHOS

I see. Well, with what you've described, I'm not surprised, but you shouldn't feel bad about it. Do you have anyone in your life that's similar?

BASIL

Grandma, I guess. She loves to watch me garden, but she's... not doing well anymore. That's why I said I was scared earlier. If mom and dad were here, maybe...

XANTHOS

When will you see them next?

BASIL

Next week, I think, but they're not planning on staying long. 

XANTHOS

Not even for a quick dinner? 

BASIL

I don't think they'd be happy about it.

XANTHOS

They wouldn't?

BASIL

They think that... just keeping the house, um, available for grandma and I is fine enough. They're usually just in company apartments elsewhere, nowadays. I think they'd take me along if it weren't for me being in school, and all, but... I think I love Faraway too much to leave. Even if it hurts...

XANTHOS

Hurts?

BASIL

F-forget I said that, sir.

XANTHOS

Very well, but it's good that you've found something to love here.

BASIL

I mean, yeah, but I wish... see, sir, I love this place because of my friends, but nowadays...

XANTHOS

Things fell apart? _(BASIL nods.)_ Familiar to me. In fact, you remind me of some friends of mine, a composer who did his best, but hurt his dancer friend. That's beside the point, for the most part.

BASIL

Did... did they make up in the end?

XANTHOS

_(Beat)_ Took a lot of effort, but they did. Forgiveness is a two-person challenge. You have to be ready to forgive and move on, and so does the other guy, or else only one person is moving on while the other's stuck in the past. Sometimes, it feels impossible to forgive. When that happens, the best that the guilty can do is keep trying to make themselves better, at least. _(XANTHOS reaches for the CD player, then stops.)_ Oh, by the way, Basil, do you like waltzes? The composer I mentioned gave me this recording as a gift.

BASIL

Waltzes?

XANTHOS

Something wrong?

BASIL

I'm just... thinking of an old memory, that's all. You can play it, I'll... I'll be fine. 

XANTHOS

I hope it's a dear one?

BASIL

... maybe. I just miss when things were easier, you know? When... when I could wake up and know that I wouldn't be alone.

XANTHOS

It's good to hear you're still waking up and getting out there, at least.

BASIL

About that... what do I do if one of my friends isn't, um, like that?

XANTHOS

That's a much harder recommendation. Is there anything that he likes to do?

BASIL

No, sir. Not anymore. He just wants to sleep all day. We... used to be so close. Sometimes, I look at my photo album and just wonder how things could've ended this way.

XANTHOS

That's life, Basil. It won't hurt any less knowing that, I mean, but it just means we have to wake up and face another day—

BASIL

I don't know if I can, sir. I mean, I try, but... nothing ends up better, and I feel like I just ruin things each and every time. Sir, how can I keep moving on when things are like that?

XANTHOS

Suppose you stop, Basil. If you stop, you leave it to chance; the only things any of us know for certain are the things that what we do.

BASIL

And what if I hurt someone because of it?

_XANTHOS turns the CD player on. It's the duet that Mari and Sunny would've played. BASIL looks noticeably shaken._

XANTHOS

At least you tried, and I hope they at least know you ca—

BASIL

Turn off the music, please.

XANTHOS

_(Obliging)_ Sorry. I can see that... well, seems we've had just that situation I was talking about. Sorry about that.

BASIL

It's fine, I just... I—I don't know what to say anymore, sir, I'm sorry. That song just reminds me of...

XANTHOS

A better time? _(Beat.)_ Well, remembering and accepting is the first step to healing. You can't repair something you refuse to acknowledge.

BASIL

So... that musician you mentioned, how did he... make up?

XANTHOS

It was just that he was so fixated on what he did that he didn't think he could take that chance, that he would never change. But, if we defined ourselves exclusively on our biggest mistake, and we didn't at least try to patch it up, we wouldn't grow at all. If we cover ourselves in a permafrost of lies or defenses or excuses, we'd never grow one bit, Basil, and that's what happened with him. He always thought he'd only hurt his friend, and that's exactly what he did — he hurt his friend to keep him away from even more pain. Self-fulfilling prophecy, I suppose. _(Beat)_ Although, I assume your case isn't totally similar, is it?

BASIL

No, not really... it's my friend, Sunny, who needs to come out. We used... I really thought I found someone who I could live the rest of my life with.

XANTHOS

He'll come around, someday. Is there any way you can contact him?

BASIL

I've tried, but he just doesn't care anymore. It's all my fault...

XANTHOS

And if it really is, that means it's up to you to do something about it. Perhaps a birthday, or something like that, something that you used to celebra—

BASIL

I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that, sir.

XANTHOS

Do you have any other friends that can help you? I'm sure some of them would very much love to help you.

BASIL

It's an idea, I guess... what about those two that you mentioned? Did they do anything, or...?

XANTHOS

The composer who shut himself off didn't do much, but... the other, the dancer never stopped trying. It's hard to totally abandon someone who you love that much, and it was definitely true for both of them, they just showed it in different ways.

BASIL

See, I don't know if... he misses me, too.

XANTHOS

I don't know him, but maybe, you need to give him a chance, too. What was he like before... everything?

BASIL

He was always kinda shy and quiet, I guess, but... but I know he cared. He was always the baby of our group. He didn't really express his emotions a lot, but seeing him smile even just a little... that was enough.

XANTHOS

If I might ask, what caused him to change? An accident? Death? Trauma? _(Beat)_ Well... regardless of the cause, he sounds like someone who's sealed away his own emotions, unaware of the pain he's caused to those who love him.

BASIL

That... that sounds about right, sir. I want to be there, but I just can't find the chance. 

XANTHOS

One day, I'm sure you'll find it, Basil, but... well, I'd say you need to help heal yourself first, but it seems he means a lot to you.

BASIL

Is that a bad thing, sir?

XANTHOS

No, not at all. It's just how some people are; their adoration of someone else helps them discover their own life, but it needs a careful balance. Solitude is important too, and you have to be able to exist without them. Still, even when people are apart, the good memories that were made will still illuminate your future. 

BASIL

And the bad ones? The ones I... the ones I wish never happened?

XANTHOS

What happened, happened, but the choice after the fact is yours. It'll be hard. You haven't told me much of what happened but... I'll guess it was a tragic death, Basil, and you weren't there when everything spun apart?

BASIL

... yes.

XANTHOS

How long ago was this?

BASIL

Two years ago, sir.

XANTHOS

You were twelve, and your group had to deal with death. That's not something easy for adults, let alone kids. Nobody is ready when something like that happens, even less so when... I mean, I'm guessing there must be something more. But anyway, don't feel bad about what you did. That's the now that was made, but it might not be the now that will be made. 

BASIL

I... shut myself out too, I mean. When everything fell apart, my friend and I... stopped going out. Kel — the one I've mentioned — just sort of stopped talking with us. He found other people. Other happiness...

XANTHOS

What was he like?

BASIL

Fun. Always happy. He argued with this other girl, um, Aubrey, but... we're not friendly, anymore.

XANTHOS

Does she bully you?

BASIL

What?

XANTHOS

Sorry if that was abrupt but... I can see a bit of myself in you, too. A soft gardener and artist with a dear, if isolated, best friend who's trying to hide a secret from an adult figure in his life.

BASIL

O-oh, there's no secret at all sir.

XANTHOS

_(Beat)_ Perhaps there isn't. But anyway, continue describing your friends, if you wish.

BASIL

Er, why?

XANTHOS

My point is that people grieve in different ways. Some shut down or lock out others. Some throw themselves with reckless abandon. Some forget and find something else; some lash out. Some feel like they've lost everything that mattered. But hopefully, in the end, they'll all know how to move on. The past, no matter how rotten, should, in some way, inspire change for the better in us. It's not easy, of course, but we have to try.

BASIL

I don't know which one I am, sir, but I'm... trying, I think. I'm trying alone, but...

XANTHOS

For now, just try to make your own morning, and if you need your friends, or Polly, or your grandmother with you to help steer you in the right way just a little, there's no shame in accepting that.

BASIL

I... don't want to burden them that way. It doesn't feel right anymore; Kel's the only one who still cares about me, but... 

XANTHOS

You mentioned that he was always happy?

BASIL

Yeah. He didn't think much about serious things, like this. He just kept smiling.

XANTHOS

I'm willing to bet he just doesn't know how to be there. As for the others?

BASIL

His brother's busy, and Aubrey... I can't talk to her. Back when we were all together, I put so much onto Sunny because he was my best friend, and when... when his sister, Mari, died, I only hurt him when I chose to be there for him. 

XANTHOS

Could you describe what you did?

BASIL

I don't... it was pretty bad, sir. I'm not ready to talk about it. I don't know if I ever will be.

XANTHOS

Basil, nearly every lie we tell is a debt of truth. Some debts are paid off quickly and painlessly. Some are forgotten about, because they're too insignificant to matter. And others... the ones that we bury deep down, they'll always leak out. Someday, that dam will burst. The human psyche isn't made to keep things hidden for that long, especially when it's between people.

BASIL

What do I do if it breaks?

XANTHOS

Tell the truth, be ready for what comes next, Basil, and I'll try to advise best I can.

BASIL

Well... thank you for that, sir, and I'm sorry if this, um, burdens you.

XANTHOS

Well, if I didn't bear someone's cross, I'd be out of a job, ah?

BASIL

I suppose so, sir, but one last thing before we go...

XANTHOS

Speak.

BASIL

Could I take some lemon pie home?

XANTHOS

Of course.

BASIL

And... I think I need to listen to that waltz one last time. Just for a little. I need to feel what I'm missing again, I think. I've only had the photo albums, and the memories, but... it's been so long since I've heard anything like it. 

XANTHOS

Are you sure? It's not my job to hurt you and leave you.

BASIL

Yes. I'm sure. Maybe I just need to hear that memory again. Maybe... maybe that'll help remind me.

XANTHOS

_(Beat)_ If you insist. 

_XANTHOS turns on the CD player. As he speaks, and as the waltz plays, BASIL fights back tears._

XANTHOS

For that composer, it was the last song he played to try to get his friend to dance again. It didn't work that night, but... these things are messy, Basil. It's rare to solve them in a day or two. But, they weren't dead yet. They could keep going on, and I hope you do too.

BASIL

Mari...

XANTHOS

Basil, whatever regrets you may have about her death, I'm sure she'd love and forgive you, even today. _(Beat)_ If you need to cry, do it. You don't need to lie to me.

BASIL

Mari!

_BASIL bursts into tears and runs towards XANTHOS._

XANTHOS

Woah, there. Y-you're fine with this, right? _(BASIL nods)_ Very well, then. Let it out, Basil. Let it out, and rebuild. Someday, you'll get the sun to shine for you again.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, this is sek3big. If you find Xanthos, his composer, his lemons, his dancer, a little familiar you may know me as Ezhara or Shwe Tu Colony, my _NationStates_ accounts; whatever the case, I am delighted to make your acquaintance. 
> 
> If I may be frank, I have found myself surprisingly unsure about this fanfic, despite my extensive concept fics. Largely, my concern arises from who might be coming in to read this — I personally would expect to see a fic centered on Basil, but I feel that I have composed a fic centered more so on the words and dialogue of an original character. Certainly, he may say wise things, but, as a reader and fan of _OMORI_ , I would have expected more focus on Basil.
> 
> Whatever the case, I hope that you enjoyed this work. I am dissatisfied with its status, but I only see what it could be; I entrust that your vision of what is presented may be the more accurate judge of quality. Perhaps I might return to create more fanfics, if I ever find the work ethic to spill out these stories.


	3. The Good Listener

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written by: [raak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raak1101)

I… made a new friend today... I think. Her name is Kim. She approached me during recess. Said she liked my hair. Guess pink really suits me. But... is it alright to meet with her? I'm not stupid. I've heard the rumors around school. How she and her brother are a pair of troublemakers. Do you… do you think that's why she approached me? She saw my pink hair and thought I was a delinquent like her?

…

Am I a delinquent? I got in trouble recently. I was having a pretty crappy day. Mom was worse than usual; didn't even gave me money to eat. The teachers were on my case about not doing my homework and were saying mean stuff. How if I continued like this, I would achieve nothing. Become a deadweight… just like Mom…

So when I saw _him_ , I… snapped. I wanted to vent my anger on someone and he was such an easy target. He's always been an easy target. It was up to Kel and me to keep him from being bullied back then. In fact, he was already being bullied when I snapped. And he just took it. It made me so angry to see him being so… pathetic. What _fucking_ right he has to be pathetic!?

S-sorry. I shouldn't take out my anger on you. Or swear. But… yeah. I exploded and yelled at him. Pushed him. Would have continued doing so if Kel and the teachers hadn't intervened. Heh... I'm probably in some kind of watch list at school now. Maybe that's why Kim approached me. She looked at me and saw a kindred spirit. Someone… people have given up on.

Is that the reason they all left? I… I wasn't worth the effort of sticking around?

Oh. I guess haven't told you who 'they' are. I should do that, shouldn’t I? Hmmm… where to start…

I guess the most recent events are as good as any. First is Kel. Holier-than-thou Kel. He has his self-righteous head so up his ass that saying he looks at the world in black and white is giving him the benefit of doubt. He's always sticking his nose in things that he doesn't understand or even bothers to try and understand. He refuses to even entertain the idea that he might be wrong. It's so infuriating. Even when we were younger, our fights were always him being stubborn and not letting an awful comment or a bad joke go.

And now he's siding with Basil without even wondering what the little creep did to deserve it. Are you wondering why I didn't just explain it to him? Hmph, as if that thickheaded idiot would even give me a chance. He has a terminal case of the hero's complex. Ironic, given that's his brother's nickname. Hmmm… maybe that's the reason he's always trying to 'help' people. A cry to be like his brother…

Whatever. If he had bothered to find out what Basil did, he would have agreed with me. But he didn't, because that empty head of his is only good for random sport trivia. All the muscles and brain rot of a jock with none of the charisma. Honestly? It's a bit sad. One of these days he will bite at more than he can chew. For his sake, I hope it's not something he'll permanently regret… or others will permanently regret.

Hmmm? You're wondering about Basil? Basil… I… I thought he was my friend. You know? I was the one to introduce him to our group of friends. Ungrateful prick. Sorry. Sorry. It just makes me so angry thinking about it. All those memories we made together. And he just defaced them as if they meant nothing. As if telling my goodwill meant s… nothing. That I wasted my time approaching the lonely flower boy that looked like he could use one or two… or five friends.

I hate him. How could he take our memories and vandalize them like that!? Those memories… sniff, they are all I have left. S-sorry. I'm trying to be tougher. To not cry. I cannot be a crybaby. If I'm not there for myself, who will be? Nobody is there for me. Not Kel. Not Basil, no one!

Ugh. What am I doing? I know what I'm doing. I'm rambling because there is nothing better to do. Because I'm stuck in this house with my mom, who cares more about downing the next bottle than her own daughter. Heck, I bet she doesn't even realize I dyed my hair pink. Or that I began wearing colored contacts. Or even about you! All courtesy of whatever money I steal from her and the support money from Dad.

…

I wonder what Dad's doing right now. You know, he assured me it wasn't my fault he was leaving. That if he could, he would take me with him. But he couldn't. Something about Mom and court. If people saw how Mom lives, I wouldn't be here. Dad did everything in the house: cleaning, cooking, groceries, taking care of me; everything. Guess he got tired of what a mess Mom is. And I wasn't worth enduring it. I've tried to call him every now and then, but if I don't do it, he doesn't call me back. Maybe he doesn't really care. Or maybe he's avoiding Mom like the plague. Wouldn't blame him.

What do you think?

…

Heh. Guess my life at home wouldn't be interesting to you, right? I really haven't seen my other old friends in a while. Hero is three years older than the rest of us and after… well, he's been busy. I guess he's off to college next year. I wonder if he'll go to culinary school. Probably not. Dyeing my hair took months to muster the courage to finally do it. There were just too many bad memories attached to it. It must be even worse for Hero. Still, I have seen him around school every now and then, so I know he's up and about. Would it kill him to just say hi? Or… were we even friends? What if he thought of us more as Kel's friends? If the only reason he hanged out with us was because he was chaperoning his brother?

I… don't want to think that's the case. But what other explanation is there? He was always so dependable. Surely he knows we needed him. That I needed him. I know we called him Hero due to that stupid sandwich… but he really was a hero to me. To all of us. Even… even Mari depended on him when it counted.

Mari… I… I m-miss... Sniff. I miss her so much. D-dad once s-said that… that the most beautiful f-flowers get… get picked first. I… I th-think he was trying to c-comfort me. Hehe, he s-sucks at that. H-he was always the religious kind.

…

S-sorry. I began to ramble there. I needed a second. The most beautiful flower gets picked first. But didn't we pick Mari first? Wasn't she our friend, our family first and foremost? It's unfair. It is so damn unfair!

Sorry! I didn't mean to yell. But. Ugh! Maybe this is why dad went to Church. He always did look more at peace on Sundays… Do you think maybe there's some worth in going to Mass? I'm not as religious as Dad, but what else do I have? If I could get even a little bit a peace, it'd be worth it, right?

In the end. Basil is a creep, Kel an absolute moron, Hero might have never been our friend to begin with, and…

And Mari is dead. Hanged herself from a tree without rhyme or reason. And to this day I just cannot believe it. Why? Why did she do it? Not even half a year before she killed herself, we were talking about dyeing our hair together. You don't do that if you plan on taking your own life!

God, I really am a piece of shit. Blaming a dead girl for not dyeing her hair with me. If I could, I would punch myself.

…

There you have it. The fractured pieces of doomed friendships. Mari dies and everything crumbles. And now I cannot help but think… what if Mari was like Hero and only hanged out with us because of her little brother?

Sunny… Just thinking about him makes me feel like s- like crap. I called Basil pathetic, but I'm not much better. Here I am, having a one-person self-pity party and I'm not even the worst off from Mari's death. I cannot even begin to imagine what Sunny is going through. I haven't seen him since the funeral two years ago. He looked so… not there. Like he was just going through the motions of living without actually living.

I used to wish I had a brother or a sister. I looked at Kel and Hero, and at Mari and Sunny, and a little part of me was envious. When they laughed together, it was much louder and contagious. Their shared smiles brighter. When they looked at their sibling, you could see a twinkle in their eyes. Even their fights looked much more fun. Not the real ones. The silly ones, like when Hero tried to hug and kiss Kel just to annoy him. I didn't hate fighting and arguing with Kel. It made me feel like I was part of the family. But it just… I think it wasn't the same as when Hero and him argued over the silliest thing. Or when Mari would allow herself to pull a little prank on Sunny.

Heh… hehehe… pfft HAHAHA! Sorry. Sorry. I'm a mess right now. First crying and now laughing? Who does that? It's just… I remember one time Mari bought Sunny a pair of cat ears. It was after he spent an entire afternoon playing in a carboard box. She called Sunny 'her purrfectly cute kit brother'. We all groaned. Mari always liked to make those lame jokes.

I liked those lame jokes. Sunny did to. Sunny barely smiled, but Mari could always manage to pull one out of him with those atrocious puns. I think Sunny was like us. He wasn't in love with them, but he wouldn't change them for anything in the world. He was agreeable like that. I wonder how he's doing right now.

Lately I've been thinking of the good times. When we used to go to the beach, play in the treehouse, do sleepovers at either Sunny's or Kel's house. You know… the good ol' times, as they say. Mari's death hit us hard… but I think Sunny's shutdown was what really drove us apart.

I might have introduced Basil to the group, but the flower boy struck a camaraderie with Sunny that… frankly? I was jealous. Though now I'm not sure if I was jealous of Sunny being a better friend with the boy I brought to the group or jealous at Basil for getting along so well with Sunny There wasn't a single hangout where Basil wouldn't gravitate to the silent boy.

Kel… I'm pretty sure if we asked him, he would say Sunny is his best friend. Not sure if the sentiment is reciprocated, but that doesn't matter. Whenever Kel got into trouble, his first choice of accomplice was Sunny. Basil would follow shortly, but it was always Sunny.

Hero... liked Mari. Like 'like-like' Mari. I'm sure both of them thought they were hiding their feelings well, but… come on. We had to be blind and deaf not to notice. Mari's death hit him hard, I'm sure. But… I think… if Sunny hadn't disappeared, he would have made an attempt to be there for Sunny. Because that's what Mari would have wanted.

And me? Sunny is a good listener. Thinking back, the only reason I endured all of Kel's shenanigans was because Sunny and Hero served to mitigate Kel's… Kelness. I could spend an entire afternoon ranting to Sunny about Kel, about my mother, about anything, really. And he would sit through it all. He rarely spoke and I would accuse him of not listening. Only for him to recount, word by word, what I said to him.

He always had very good memory.It bordered on creepy how good it was. If I take a step back… I can see him being that creepy kid that silently sits in the corner of the classroom, lost in his dreams. But that's just who he was. Silent, but attentive. Always paying attention and caring for those around him… He has good memory, but I wonder if he would recognize me now, with teal eyes and pink hair.

What I'm trying to say… Sunny was our glue. A buffer between me and Kel. A support and gentle hand to Basil's fragility. A reason for Hero to remain. If he had been around after Mari's death… I think our group of friends would have survived. Is… is it selfish of me to ask that from him? We lost a friend, but he lost his sister. I wanted a sibling at first, but now… do I really want to put myself in such a vulnerable position? It's silly, I know. Like, what are the actual chances? But… it can happen. I've seen as much. And it scares me.

If Sunny was here, I would be talking to him instead of you. Maybe not exactly what I said to you, but… enough to find that elusive peace. To know that there's someone out there that cares.

Not that you are a bad listener. I really appreciate you listening to my ramblings. It… helps. A little, but it helps. That's more than I can say for my supposed friends.

Yawn.

It's getting late and I have school tomorrow. I should probably hit the bed. Here, let me help you. Comfortable? Good. Nighty-night. And… again, thanks… for tonight.

You really are a good listener, Bun-Bun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo!
> 
> Raak here. Hope you've enjoyed what we've written so far. I'm fascinated not only with the content of stories, but also the writing process. It's the reasons my fics contain lengthy A/N detailing some of my writing choices.
> 
> When I proposed this collaboration on Discord (hence why I'm the one posting it), I wanted each writer to make their chapter their own. To not feel constrained by expectations. I think we achieved this, and you can see each of our style filter through.
> 
> Constrains can be a venue for greatness. Trying to stand out while under limitations can give amazing results if you're willing to bend these limitations to their breaking point. I'm a big gamer and many of the great classics are great because of their limitations, and how they worked around them.
> 
> I won’t comment on the others. Let their words speak for themselves. But in my case, I wanted to deviate a bit from the traditional "therapist". I immediately jumped at the chance to write Aubrey because I like her character a lot. But, now stuck with her, I was presented with a challenge: how to stand out? Taking liberties with the "therapist" prompt, I doubt Aubrey, the character, really have the opportunities to assist to a proper therapist. But therapy is not something that has to be clinical. Something therapeutical can be many things. Maybe even talking to your pet bunny.
> 
> Enjoy the last chapter. Raak out!


	4. Never Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written by: [gen3king](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gen3king)

Hero sighs, annoyed as he taps his foot annoyed and anxious. He's Hero, the one who handles everything. Who helps people. Who is there for everyone. He slips up one time cause Mari died and they treat him like a crazy person?

These thoughts are delusional. There are no heroes, just people doing their best, and Hero is not a hero, but merely Henry. Also, he is not in therapy cause he is seen as mad, but because he is in pain he needs to heal. If he does not heal this pain it will fester. 

The therapist enters, sitting in the black leather chair across from the glass table from Henry. She is middle aged woman in a brown leather jacket, clearly she is quite fond of leather. She has blue eyes, and a very kind smile. She greets the damaged young man with compassion, "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm swell!" Hero lies to both her and himself, "I don't even need to be here I should go!"

"I'm afraid we still have plenty of time and it is rude to walk out," the therapist retorts.

Hero sighs, not wanting to be rude, he sits back down. He has work to do! He has to apply for college and save lives! He has to do this he's wasting time! It's never enough time!

"I'm wasting my time," Hero snaps bitterly, "I could be studying!"

"But why?" The therapist inquires leaning in as she realizes this is a lead she can follow to the heart of the problem. 

"Who else is going to?" Hero replies, laughing that that's even a question. Who is gonna do it. Her? No. Kel? No. Sunny? Sunny's gone. He's the Hero of this story.

His delusions continue to twist.

"I dunno one of several billion other people?" The therapist replies, "And… what of your desire to cook Henry? You-"

"It's Hero," Henry snaps back.

"But what of that?" The therapist presses.

"I cooked with Mari," Hero sighs, "She… she's dead. OK?"

"But didn't you enjoy that?"

Henry gets angry. What does it matter what he enjoys? What he wants? It's never mattered! His parents push him to be a doctor! The women he loves is dead! What does he want?

"I can't have what I want," Henry growls, "So why bother?"

"I don't see how that's healthy," The therapist retorts, "Maybe you should-"

Henry rises to his feet, taking an enraged and mocking tone, "Oh! I should pratice self care and self love! Like that'll magically bring Mari back! Like pixies all my problems will fly away! In a dash everything fixed and all smiles we all hold hands and sing a joyful tune! Ha ha!" Henry glares strently, "That's not how it works. That's not how life works."

"Then how do you think it works?"

"It works like this. You want the truth? I don't wanna be alive. I don't wanna wake up every day without Mari. I'm not gonna kill myself buy my life is shit! My mom is a self centered egocentric bitch and my dad is distant if at least somewhat caring. I raised Kel more than they did! You know why? I'm the Hero! I save everyone cause no one else will!"

"But then… Who saves you?"

"Mari was supposed to, but she's gone. So, no one."

"So what?" The therapist demands, baffles by the depths and dangers of these delusions, "You just become a doctor to make your parents happy? Let your mind decay over weeks, months, years, and for what? What about you?"

"Someone has to be the hero," Henry sighs.

The therapist runs out of patience and states sternly, hiding her concern and frustration, "You're going to burn yourself out and end up right back here."

"Not if no one sees it," Hero shrugs, "I walk out that door, say things went great, fantastic even, and everyone believes it. I move on, and no one bats an eye as long as I have a smile on my face and get the grades. I'll be a OK."

"What would Mari say?" The therapist demands.

Henry glares, death in his eyes, "I missed the part where the dead are my problem."

"You too will die someday."

"And can you prove I'll even see her again to have to justify myself?"

The therapist falls silent. Unsure what to say, before she can reply Henry glares, "That's what I thought."

"But you won't be happy," she retorts, "Just a husk with a take smile. Going through the motions? Do you really want this? Would Mari want this? Your friends and family?"

"They want a Hero, a doctor."

"No. They want Henry. They want you to be happy. You are enough. You-"

"I AM NEVER ENOUGH!" Hero screams breaking down as he leaps to his feet, pointing accusatory at the therapist, "IF I WAS ENOUGH! MARI WOULD STILL BE ALIVE! I AM NOT ENOUGH! I WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH BECAUSE NOW IT'S TO LATE."

"So you make a facade to satisfy everyone else?" The therapist collects herself with a deep breath as she continues, "That won't last forever. Something will break."

"What matter is I look OK," Hero laughs madly, "No one will know about this as I coast through, not caring, cause I don't care anymore. I'll get the jobs done, make sure everyone is happy, and no one will suspect a thing."

"But do you truly want that? Do they truly want that?"

"They'll see what they want, what's it matter if it's real? I'm the Hero. I can and will fix this."

"No. You're Henry. Mari loved Henry, not this husk of a martyr complex you're choosing to be. This isn't going to help people it's just going to hurt you. Henry can do more good for people because he will do more good, no, you will do more good for yourself. Sharpen the saw, make yourself happy. Same logic applies to both."

"This saw was rusted beyond repair when Mari died," Hero states sternly in the doorway, "I'll look fine, and they'll all think I am. I'll be Hero, and it'll be OK."

"And when that fails?"

"Maybe…" Hero sighs, "Maybe someday, I'll be Henry, but I'm Hero, the Hero, and until someone proves otherwise…"

Hero exits, "Nothing will get past my facade…"


End file.
